


Wide Wide Open

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Body Horror, Cervical Prolapse, Enemas, F/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Kink, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Rape, Scat, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Torture, Torture, Ultra Hardcore, Vaginal Prolapse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15011738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Now, tell me the truth, my dear. Are you a virgin? Oh, well then this will be quite a bit of fun for me. Not so much for you, but that’s all right.”





	Wide Wide Open

**Author's Note:**

> This is tagged. If you read it anyway, don't come crying.

The ache in your pussy wakes you. It’s a sort of low throb between your legs, making you feel kind of sick to your stomach, and as you rouse you start to realize where you are. You’re strapped onto a stirrup chair like you’re at a gynecologist’s office, your legs pulled wide open, your arms and waist and neck belted down. You’re gagged, duct tape holding your head down, passing between your teeth, pushing your tongue into the back of your throat. Your tiny tits are pulled straight out in front of you into what looks like some kind of a lactation pump, and as you shift you realize that there’s something heavy running into your ass and deeper inside you, pressing against the inner sphincter of your colon.

 

You begin to cry, reflexively. There are footsteps and the curtains around the chair part, the overhead light shifting, shining into your eyes. You can’t see his face—he’s wearing large plastic glasses with a light over the bridge of his nose and a facemask, full-body scrubs, latex gloves pulled tight over his hands. But you can tell he’s smiling.

 

“Good morning, good morning. Sleep well?” he pulls over a stool and sits down between your legs so you can just see the top of his head, covered in an opaque hair net. “No, don’t wiggle so much. I got that enema tube in while you were out, and I don’t think you’ll enjoy it nearly as much while you’re awake. I’m not interested in scraping you up, now.” He pats your inner thigh.

 

You feel weirdly kind of relaxed. Your whole body doesn’t answer your summons like you want it to—your muscles, especially from the waist down, are trembling. You cry louder.

 

“Now,” he says. “Let’s get this off. You’ve been in the pump for an hour, I can’t wait to see how it looks.” He reaches down between your thighs, to your pussy, and grabs the thing that’s holding onto it, a little pink suction cup, releases the suction, and pulls it off.

 

Even from where your head is restrained, you can see your pussy. It’s been totally shaved, there’s not a hair on it anywhere. And it’s _enormous_. It’s nearly thrice the size it’s ever been, and as he drags his fingers up your labia you shriek, trembling at how overwhelming the sensations are. There’s no hair stopping them, and all the blood swelling it makes it feel. Oh, god. You try to jerk away from him, but your legs won’t respond, flailing, as his fingertips probe deeper into you, gently sliding over your labia, and then brushing your clit with the gentlest touch. “It’s beautiful,” he tells you. He gets out a camera and snaps a few photos. “I would have liked to leave it on longer, but I need to find your urethra in there, and that’s best done with a little less swelling.”

 

He pulls back, and leaves your line of sight. He comes back with an IV stand. Hanging from it is an empty bag with a tube looped around that ends in a fine hoseline, and then another, much larger bag, sloshing with water. He doesn’t talk to you as he unspools the hose, then leans over and parts your labia again. He feels around just under your clit and then gets down to take a look, and then you shriek as something probes _into_ you where it _isn’t meant to_ , and you scream as it keeps going and going and going, and then pops. Deeper. Inside.

 

“There,” he says. “Catheter.” You watch as yellow urine goes up the tube and into the bag, and you feel like you’re going to be sick. You’re. Peeing. In front of your rapist. “We’ll work on your bladder a little later. I just don’t want you making a mess.” He takes the other bag, pulls the IV stand closer, and takes the hose that’s breaking your ass open and unrolls it so that it’s plugging into the bottom of the bag. And then he twists something on it.

 

“This won’t be particularly comfortable. It’s got some baking soda and soap in it, but you can handle it. It’s only two gallons.”

 

When the first rush of warm water hits your anus, starts coiling inside you, you have a moment to be uncomfortable with the concept that he’s filling your rectum and colon with water, and then it just keeps _coming_ , an endless gushing flow, filling you up. And it _burns_ , the soap irritating your bowels. And coming. And coming. There’s so much water, and you can’t escape, even as you piss yourself in fear, filling up the cath bag, and watch your abdomen start to swell, getting bigger as the bag hanging from the IV stand begins to deflate, little by little.

 

The pressure is excruciating. You cry at the pain of the soap and the baking soda, cleaning you out. Your belly is huge; you look pregnant soon enough, swollen up to your lungs. Your body keeps trying to cramp, but he runs his hand counter-clockwise on your stomach, making soothing noises. “You can do it, there you go.” He just keeps filling you up, until you feel nauseous and like you’re about to puke, until the bag hangs totally empty and you _need_ to shit.

 

You have never in your life needed to shit like you do right now. It’s all you can think about. You keep clenching up, to try and expel, but whatever is keeping you full of the water is preventing it. Some kind of bulb or valve, you can’t push the water back out. You stare at him, trying to communicate your need through whimpers, but all he does is pull away and leave you laying there, soaked in cold sweat, waiting.

 

He comes back soon enough. With a bucket. He fiddles at the front of your anus, and you feel a pressure deflate, and he pulls out a long tube with a bulb on it, slides your ass further off the end of the bed and over the bucket, and gently places his hand over your vagina. “Go ahead,” he tells you.

 

You begin to cry.

 

“Oh, darling,” he tells you, laughing, “I’ve seen much worse. Don’t worry. I’m sure it won’t be that bad, and by the time we’re done here, I’ll have seen so very much of you. How about you let it all go now. You can’t keep it forever.” You’re clenching up, but it’s leaking down the crack of your ass. “If you don’t, I’ll push on your stomach.” You start to twist, but it’s still leaking, water dripping out of you.

 

He sighs. “I guess I’ll clean your vagina after.”

 

And he puts his hand down on your stomach and, gently, pushes in.

 

And you begin to cry as the water, brown and thick with clumps of your feces, starts to shoot out of you and into the bucket. The hollow sounds it makes as it hits bottom make you want to die of shame, but it keeps coming and coming and coming, draining out of you in gushes and trickles. He pushes on different parts of your abdomen, but now the dam is broken it’s all coming, soaking your ass and your vagina and his hand holding the bucket. He’s trying to talk soothingly to you, to maybe _relax_ you, but eventually the agony is over, and he pulls away and you don’t have to see what’s in the bucket as he leaves.

 

You hear a toilet, distantly, flush, and then he comes back. He has changed his latex gloves for a clean pair, and he pulls out some wipes and sits back down, wiping down your anus and your vagina, his tender fingers probing between all the swollen, aching parts of your pussy, getting into every lost crack. “Nice and wet,” he tells you, as he slides the tip of one finger into you. “And very relaxed. I gave you a few muscle relaxant injections, so I’m glad to see they’re helping.” He pulls open a drawer on the table and pulls out something, and you feel something cold and plastic push at the opening of your vagina.

 

He turns on the light on his glasses, and you see, to your horror, the TV screen you had barely given a passing thought to in the corner of the tiny room flash once and light up.

 

You can see your vagina. Your pussy. It’s huge and swollen and red, your tiny clit enormous, a catheter line snaking just beneath it. And you can see as he slides a speculum into you, your body so tight as it tries to expel it. Or _tries_. You’re too relaxed from whatever he drugged you with, and it goes right in with a little lube, your body already soaking wet.

 

“Hmm,” he says. “Now, tell me the truth, my dear. Are you a virgin?”

 

You close your eyes and nod.

 

“Oh, well then this will be quite a bit of fun for me. Not so much for you, but that’s all right.” You open your eyes again, because you _hate_ him, but he doesn’t look at you. You can only see the top of his head as he bends between your thighs and slides the speculum the rest of the way home, and pulls it open.

 

You scream as, for the first time, you’re opened. And you can _see_ it, the red of your walls peeled apart by the speculum. He hums in pleasure as he looks into you, and probes around with his finger. “Yes, you looked like you had a well-formed, tight pussy. It’s quite handsome. And stretching so already. You’ll take very well.” he pulls the speculum back, and sets it aside on a table, and opens the drawer.

 

The second one he takes out is twice the size, and he lubes it liberally before he _forces_ it into your body. Your pelvis isn’t prepared, and it hurts as he stretches your pussy backwards, dragging it down toward your anus. All the touches are amplified, the almost-tear in your mucous membranes like knives because of how swollen you are, but he doesn’t care. He just keeps pulling until he has the speculum open as wide as it can go, and you can see all the way down into your pussy, your walls pulled almost as wide as your own fist.

 

You tug on the straps, yelling, as he pulls out a long probe and slides it into your vagina, pushes it deeper, until it reaches the circle of your cervix. He prods at it, and then pushes it into the small indentation in the middle, and you cry out in pain as he thrusts it to and from a few times, as if testing the elasticity. “A very nice cervix,” he tells you. All you can see is the pink ring, stretching, pulled back and forth by the probe. It hurts. So much. “Yes, very nice indeed.” He pulls his hand and the probe back, and it has a speck of blood on it. He sets it aside, and begins to widen the speculum more until your body feels like it can’t take it.

 

And then he stands up, the speculum holding your vagina almost impossibly wide. He busies himself with something else, and you yelp as he peels back the hood of your clit and slides a tiny suction thing onto it, and holds it down as he twists the wheel at the back. You can see, on the screen and with your own eyes, as your tiny clit stretches out.

 

You’ve always loved your tiny, oversensitive clit. Now it’s longer than the tip of your finger, stretching upward, and you convulse at the pleasure/pain, shaking and wheezing as he tightens it further. You can’t escape the assault; it’s constant. It feels like he’s going to tear your clit off.

 

“This will be far easier if you can orgasm for me,” he tells you, and flicks the tube.

 

Your first orgasm hits you so hard that you shut your eyes and cry and yell, trembling and arching up off of the table. You can feel your body trying to push out the speculum but he holds it into you, keeping you open even as your body tightens down, trying to milk an imaginary cock. You can feel yourself squirting out the catheter, your open anus clenching down and trying to grasp the inflated plug that’s no longer in you.

 

When it’s over, you collapse back onto the table, and stare at the tv screen. Your clit is still in the suction, and it’s oversensitive and painful, but it’s just going to drag you to another orgasm soon enough, and you cry as he pulls the speculum from you without even bothering to make it smaller, dragging out on the inflamed, sensitive walls of your vagina, until it pops free with a _squelch_. He sets that one aside too, and pulls out a third, and this one is _enormous_.

 

He lubes it, and slides it in. It feels like he’s trying to push his hand in. But your vagina, artificially relaxed, takes it. He pushes it until you can feel it bashing up against your cervix, and starts to open it. And open it.

 

“This is a horse speculum,” he tells you. “So you’re doing very well.” You begin to cry, because you know the vagina can tighten back up from a lot, but now you’ve got a _horse_ vagina? “Don’t cry, my dear,” he tells you. “I think it’s beautiful. I can’t wait to see your beautiful, loose whore vagina. It’s going to be wonderful and lovely. Perfect for anything.” He keeps turning, and you scream as the speculum reaches its widest size. “Now,” he tells you. “I’m going to let you sit with that for some time.” He picks up a long, thin stick, and lubes the tip, and you see as he bends down again, shining the light and the camera into your vagina. He slides the stick forward until the tiny bulb on the end, about the width of the nail of your thumb, presses to your cervix.

 

He pushes until it digs through and you shriek. He laughs. “Oh, you’ll find you enjoy it soon enough,” and then he pushes a button and the vibrator starts to vibrate. He increases the strength until you can’t think, your body being shaken apart from the inside, as the shock waves start at your stretched cervix and go out and out and out, and you can’t escape it, anywhere in your swollen pussy or in the agony of your clit. He stands up, stops looking into your vagina, and pushes a button on some side panel and the suction on your tits starts, too, as they get dragged into the cups. You yell. You can’t move, and the sensation all over your body is agonizing.

 

You usually can’t even push your vibrator to your clit without your panties in the way or it hurts too much. And now—

 

He pats your stomach. “I think an hour should do. You’ll be loose enough for the next step then.”

 

He vanishes, and leaves you like that, and you eventually close your eyes and succumb to the total onslaught as your thoughts drift away, and all you can think about is the pleasure/pain and the agony you feel in every inch of your cunt, in your clit, in your nipples and your tits, being sucked on.

 

You lose track of time, but his footsteps return eventually when you’re so overwrought with pleasure after orgasms that have faded so much you’ve lost count, and he alerts you of his return by pushing the button that releases the suction on your tits. “Looking good, my dear. You’ve almost got some milk coming there.” He sits down, and you shriek as he grabs the vibrator still going inside your cervix, vibrating your womb, and rips it out in one motion, not even slowly. You’re yelling so much at the pain of having that sensitive ring of flesh so abused that you just yell harder as he releases your clit from its suction and cruelly grabs it between two fingers and twists, _hard_ , and pulls like it’s a tiny cock.

 

There’s too many nerve endings, and it all narrows down to that point so that you barely even feel it as he pulls the speculum out and your loosened cunt collapses together. He only lets go of your clit once you’ve convulsed up off the table and gushed slick. You’re sopping wet throughout your entire pussy, and he laughs as you can feel the cath catch your attempt to squirt.

 

“There we go. I hate doing this with lube. It feels like cheating.” You feel his fingertips at your entrance. “Open your eyes,” he tells you, and you do, staring down. He’s looking into your pussy again. “In fact, you’ll probably not want to look away again.” His hand is pressing into your cunt, two fingers, now three. You can see your cunt swallow him up at four fingers, as he tucks his thumb, and in one quick motion punch-fucks his fist into your vagina. The close-up on the screen shows your entrance stretched around the width of his wrist as he fucks deeper into you, pulling out and in, fisting you.

 

He quickly just starts to rip it in and out, making your vagina stretch around the full width of his fist. You’re soaked but he adds more lube as he dries it out, punching deeper and smashing into the almost-numb ring of your cervix, sensation deadened by how long the vibrator was in it. And he keeps going, too, even when his fist slips out of you with ease.

 

He starts to add his second hand. And soon, he’s punching your cervix with two fists, and you’re yelling in agony every time. You can’t do anything to stop him, though, so you suffer as he punches you, alternates ripping his fists out of you, before he pulls both out of you quickly and you can see your vagina collapsing without the width of his fist. “Very nice,” he tells you, and picks up a speculum, slides it into you again.

 

It’s the horse speculum, and it opens even further this time. He bends down again, and you see your vaginal walls, bright bloody red with abuse, as he slides his hand in _along with_ the speculum, and reaches for the tight ring of your cervix. He pinches and pulls it, humming as he does so, until he grabs the sides of it and tugs outward. It starts to move, a little, as he pulls it closer and closer to him, the tips of the speculum digging into the sides of your womb.

 

“I’ve always wanted to do this. I knew the minute I saw you, it had to be you. Your perfect tits, they’re so teeny. I saw your narrow hips and knew you weren’t meant to open like this. The exact candidate. And now here you are, so open it’s impossible without modern medicine. And your cervix—isn’t it beautiful?” he thumbs at it, and you jolt. “Meant to only open for babies. Or...well.” he laughs. “We’ll see now. I gave it a few muscle relaxant injections earlier before I really started on you, before you woke up. So, let’s see.” You see in close up, as the camera watches your cervix pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and he lifts up a very small speculum, presses it to the tiny indentation (now wider, red and rimed with blood) and peels it open.

 

He ducks down, and you sob as the camera looks into the darkness of the inside of your womb. He pulls it open further, your body trying to eject the speculum, and he reaches, fumbling for the camera, and extends it out from the top of his glasses so that the light glows into it.

 

On the screen, and to his eyes, the dark inside of your womb throbs, clenching down. “Perfect,” he tells you, and holds the speculum in as he slides a long thin tube into your vagina, until it passes through the tiny speculum’s opening and into your womb, sliding into your cervix in full.

 

And then he starts to do something between his legs. You think he’s jacking off—you couldn’t avoid seeing the huge hard-on he has—but no, he’s squeezing a pump, and you feel something deep inside you start to inflate, one pump at a time, until it’s pressing back against your cervix and you can see a small lump in the center of your stomach. He keeps pumping, and you feel your womb expand like you’re _pregnant_ , getting bigger and bigger. It stops soon enough, pumped huge, and he pulls the speculum out from inside you.

 

He doesn’t need it, not with his hand in you.

 

He starts to pull on the tube into the inflated bag, and you yell as you can see your cervix pulling out of you, until it’s at the lips of your cunt. He tugs a few times, just to make sure it’s not going anywhere, and then presses his hand to the top of your pussy, gets your clit between his thumb and forefinger.

 

“Here we go,” he tells you. He pinches your clit hard between his fingers, pulling and twisting harder than he should, and you’re already rolling up into an orgasm, thrown over the edge, your body clenching and pushing out as he times it with the tugs on your cervix, and then he pulls, _hard_.

 

You see it on the screen, but you can feel it, too. Your cervix opens wide, unable to stretch any further, as the fully inflated, 10cm of balloon popping out like it’s a baby’s head. There’s blood that goes with it, blood and lube, and you scream as you convulse in some horrific mix of agony as he breaks your body and orgasm, your cunt dripping wet as he grabs your cervix and pulls harder to keep it from going back into you, pulling its open maw out until it passes the lips of your cunt, the red swollen flesh of your vagina going with it.

 

It falls into his hand. Like a little tail.

 

You can’t stop screaming.

 

He squeezes your inside-out vagina, clearly in awe. Tugs on it a little, to see if it will come any further. Your cervix is still gaping open, and he slides three fingers in, finger-fucking it as he continues to play with your clit. “Finally,” he whispers. He pulls back and starts fumbling with the zip of his fly.

 

You knew he’d rape you, as if this hasn’t all been rape. You knew it, you knew it. But here comes his cock, pulled out of his fly, and it doesn’t matter how big it is because he presses it to the head of your cervix and fucks inside you, and you can’t stop screaming as he rams into your womb, holding your vagina outside your body as he thrusts into it. You’re a cocksleeve, he’s jacking off into you like you’re a sex toy, grunting as he fucks you hard and fast, and then he pulls your vagina hard enough you can feel your bladder tugging on the catheter as it, too, starts to turn inside out, and he grunts as he cums inside you, thrusting and gushing into you, one pulse of cum at a time.

 

He pulls back out, your cervix deflates, bloody jizz dripping out its now-wide opening. He bends down, pinches that flesh like it’s your clit, twists and turns. “Now what?” He asks, almost rhetorically. “I guess we keep it out here. Don’t you think? Yes, you’re going to stay down here, like this.” I’ll be back.

 

He finally leaves, and you lay there, staring at your inside-out cunt, until he returns, with a solid-size dildo. One that’s as big as a human penis, and he pushes this into your cervix until it bottoms out against the top of your womb. He turns it on, a low but constant vibration, and lays it gently against the table. “There,” he tells you. “We’ll work on getting it bigger next. I want to put my whole fist up in there. Your muscle relaxants will wear off soon, so I don’t want it to contract. Now it can’t go anywhere. After we make sure you won’t lose your pretty tail...” he trails off, and reaches for the catheter in your urethra, “I’ve always wondered if I could fuck a girl’s piss hole.”


End file.
